A Different Kind of Romance
by Ivyshadow74
Summary: When a modern-day Templar with a hatred towards her own heritage gets transported into the past, things get...interesting between her and an Assassin. Romance between my friend's OC and Connor. Rating just to be sure.


**A/N: Hi! As you can see, this is my first fanfiction. I'm writing this for my friend. Now I've never played Assassin's Creed 3, but I really needed to get started on this. Anyway, I realize that this really does make no sense at all. I basically took characters/names from Assassin's Creed to use in this. I know this is really unorganized, but seeing as my friend already got chapter 1 of the fanfiction she wrote for me up, so I needed to post this. After I play Assassin's Creed 3, chances are I'll probably rewrite this. Plus I haven't written anything in such a long time, so I'm sorry.**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Assassin's Creed or Whitney Catt.  
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Whitney Catt had always been an ordinary girl. She led a normal life in New York; there was nothing really special about it. That was until she learned about her Templar heritage.

When Whitney was sixteen, she had noticed a strange symbol on her mother's ring. She had always seen it, but it wasn't until then she grew such an interest in it. She had asked her mother what it was out of curiosity. Her mother, Rosemary, then had to sit down with her and explain the history between Assassins and Templars.

"Whitney," her mother had said, looking down at her ring. "Long ago, there were two groups. The Assassins, and the Templars. They both wanted one thing: a peaceful world. But the way they wanted to achieve this peace varied. The Assassins believed that if everyone was free to make their own choices, then there would be peace. The Templars believed that if choice is removed, then peace would come. But do you honestly think that if everyone could choose to do whatever he or she wanted, there would be peace? No. There would be chaos. The Assassins and Templars are enemies, and this war is still going on today, though you may not see it," she paused, taking a breath. "You see, Whitney, we're Templars. It's in our blood. The symbol that you saw on my ring was the Templar cross."

Whitney had taken a few moments to think about everything her mother had told her. "So, Templars wanted control over humankind? They wanted to take freedom away? Where would we be now if we didn't get to chose our own paths? To me, it sounds like the Templars are the bad guys," she had said. "_We're _the bad guys." Whitney had sat back, trying to understand why her mother seemed to think that Templars were good.

"It's not so bad, really," her mother had murmured quietly, running a hand through her soft brown hair. "Maybe I didn't explain well enough. You see, if everyone could chose to do whatever they wanted, there would be war. Unnecessary bloodshed. If no one had the choice to rebel, then everything would be peaceful and quiet. Do you understand now?"

Whitney had sighed, slightly frustrated. "No. I don't understand. It still seems like the Templars just want complete control over humans. The Assassins seem like they're fighting for what's right." She had gotten up, not wanting to have this conversation. "I'm sorry, but I don't think I could ever grow to understand the Templars."

Rosemary had closed her light blue eyes. "Alright, Whitney. I guess I can't make you see that the Templars are the good ones here. You've always been stubborn, and I can't change that. But please understand that we're Templars, and you really can't deny that."

"Mom, I don't _want_ to be a Templar," Whitney had muttered. "I don't really want to have this conversation. I'm sorry."

Whitney remembered this conversation well. It was what she thought about when she had nothing else to distract her. She held a strong hatred towards her own blood. She pinched the bridge of her nose, annoyed. She was eighteen now, but this conversation from two years ago still bothered her. Whitney ran her thin fingers through her wavy brown hair, trying her best to forget it. It caused her nothing but bitter anger and aggravation. She sat on her bed, turning on the TV. They were talking about some kind of project where they send you back in time, but you get to keep your body. They were taking volunteers, but for some reason they'd have to test your blood… _How would they even send you into the past? Wouldn't it change history somehow?_ Whitney thought, confused. _Well, it wouldn't hurt to sign up…it sounds really interesting, anyway._

She grabbed a piece of paper and quickly wrote down the phone number to call. After looking through her room for her cell phone for a few minutes, she finally found it. Whitney dialed the number, hoping the line wouldn't be busy. She had a surprisingly short conversation with the woman on the other end. The woman gave her an address to go to, saying that Whitney could come down any time she wanted, and hung up.

Whitney eagerly grabbed her coat, her green-blue eyes sparkling, and headed out the door. It didn't take long to get to the address she received. It was a very big office-like building. She got out of her silver car, and slowly entered the building. She walked over to the front desk, speaking to the woman. She looked very bored; it seemed as though not many people were calling.

"Err…hello," Whitney said, smiling. "I had called earlier; my name is Whitney Catt."

"Oh! Yes, I remember you. Thank you for volunteering for our project, Miss Catt. Now, we have to test your blood for…something, but please don't worry. We don't need much blood, and we should get the results back rather quickly," the woman said,

"Thank you," Whitney murmured. She followed the receptionist through the building, looking around. There wasn't much to see; it was a rather dull, boring building. They reached a small, plain white room with supplies to draw blood. The woman left, telling Whitney to wait in the room for a few minutes.

Whitney sat down, her green-blue eyes flitting around the room. There was nothing to look at, really. She played with her wavy brown hair, wondering why it ended in curls. After what felt like an eternity, another woman with thin, short blonde hair and chocolate-brown eyes came in. She greeted Whitney with a smile, and began preparing the tools.

Holding her arm out, Whitney took a deep breath and looked up at the ceiling, waiting for the thin needle to enter her flesh. She knew it wouldn't really hurt, but just the thought of it made her slightly squeamish. Whitney felt a slight pinch at first, but after that she felt fine.

"Um…can I ask what there tests are for?" Whitney said quietly, glancing around.

"Well, they're just to see if you're…compatible with our machines," the nurse replied. She appeared uncomfortable and unsure for some reason.

"Okay," Whitney whispered, although that didn't explain much. It actually confused her more even more.

The woman nodded and said, "The test results should be back in about thirty minutes. Just wait here, please." She threw away the used supplies and left the room with Whitney's blood.

Whitney sat in the room, fidgeting often. The thirty minutes that passed felt like three hours, since there wasn't anything to look at. Not even a stain on the ceiling. Just the plain white walls.

After what was apparently thirty minutes, the blonde-haired nurse came back. "Hello, Miss Catt," she greeted Whitney again. "I great news. You passed the blood test; you can be a part of our project."

Whitney quickly sat up; the nurse had caught her attention. "R-really? Can I ask what you needed to test my blood for?"

The nurse slowly started to walk out of the room, beckoning with her small, pale hand for Whitney to follow. "Come. I'll explain on the way," she said in her soft, quiet voice.

Whitney swiftly got up and followed the nurse through various hallways, listening closely to every word she spoke.

"Well, Miss Catt. There are two groups: Assassins and Templars. There's a long history between us-" the woman was abruptly cut off by Whitney, who was trudging along behind her.

"Stop…you don't need to explain. My mother already explained this all to me before. I know I'm a Templar. Though I'm not too pleased with it…" Whitney had whispered that last part so quietly the woman in front of her couldn't hear.

The nurse looked surprised, and somewhat pleased. "Well, that's great news. It saves me a lot of time trying to tell you about it. But please, don't talk about this with anyone. If you do, well, we'll have to…'take action.'" Those last words were quite ominous for the seemingly cheerful young woman.

Whitney's green-blue eyes widened in slight fear, even though she wasn't going to tell anyone about what was going on. "Alright," she mumbled.

"I think you should know that we're not the only Templars out there. We're affiliated with a company called Abstergo Industries. Though what they're doing isn't that great. What we're doing is just letting people go back into the past, just to enjoy themselves basically. But we'd prefer if we kept this project inside of our…'group'. The Templars. There's not really any reason in particular," the small, slender woman said softly, leading Whitney into an elevator.

Whitney took a moment to process this, her thin, dark eyebrows furrowing. "Okay. But what exactly does Abstergo Industries do?" she queried, looking down.

The blonde woman looked like she felt slightly awkward. She rubbed the back of her neck. "I'm sorry, but I don't think you really need to know," she responded quietly, her voice hoarse.

Whitney only nodded in response. _What is Abstergo doing? Was it really that bad that she can't tell me?_she thought, truly perplexed._ I guess I can't really do anything about it…_

The elevator abruptly stopped, its dull silver doors opening slowly. The woman got out, leading Whitney through more hallways, though they were fewer and shorter than the ones downstairs. They finally walked into a white room with a strange machine in it. It looked somewhat like a chair, but it had lots of wires attached to it.

"Sit in this…err…chair, and we can get started," the woman instructed Whitney with a smile. She strode over to the chair, making sure everything was secure.

Whitney slowly walked over to the chair, glancing at the blonde woman. "Okay…hey, what's your name, if you don't mind me asking?" she asked. The nurse had been with her for a while, but Whitney didn't know how to address her. "And…I thought you were just a nurse."

The woman looked up at Whitney from her position behind the chair. "My name is Jennifer. And no, I'm not just a nurse. I'll be monitoring you when you're inside the machine to make sure nothing goes wrong."

Her heartbeat rising a bit, Whitney looked at Jennifer with uncertainty. "Wh-what could go wrong?" she stammered, sitting in the chair.

"Oh, it's nothing to be worried about, Whitney," Jennifer murmured, standing up and setting up the machine.

"Okay…" Whitney looked around the room one last time before she felt her eyes close, being "transported" back in time.


End file.
